


Problem-Solving for Beginners

by Saperli_Popette



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Age Difference, Felching, First Time, Light Bondage, M/M, Nonnies Made Me Do It, Not Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie) Compliant, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-16
Updated: 2018-05-25
Packaged: 2019-05-07 23:54:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14682143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saperli_Popette/pseuds/Saperli_Popette
Summary: Tony's conscience is bothering him. Peter has a solution.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the conversation [here](https://fail-fandomanon.dreamwidth.org/313513.html?thread=1791869865#cmt1791869865), and dedicated to all the lovely nonnies in the Peter/Tony threads at FFA. (YMMV as to whether this is a lovely gift or the equivalent of your cat bringing you a mutilated rodent. ;) )

“Mr. Stark, _please_ ,” Peter whined, arching his back and squirming underneath Tony. 

It wasn't that Tony didn't want to give Peter what he wanted--hell, he was here (“here” being in part defined as “with his cock buried in Peter's ass” as well as “in this hotel room”) despite what a colossally bad idea fucking a seventeen-year-old boy was, because he was incredibly bad at not giving Peter Parker everything he wanted. (All right, also because for fuck's sake, _look at him._ Better men than Tony would have found that hard to resist.) 

It was just that while he wasn't going to even attempt to make the argument that this was a good idea, there was “unbelievably terrible judgment” and then there was “actively harmful to Peter,” and he was trying to stay on the side of the former. 

This was Peter's first time. He deserved it to be good. He deserved it to be with someone other than Tony, to be honest, but Tony was who Peter wanted, and so here they were, all of Tony's guiltiest jerk-off fantasies of the last couple of years coming true. 

But it was going to be good. Careful, and gentle, and not at all like what Tony remembered of his own first time--which wasn't much, because he'd been incredibly wasted, but he was very clear on how sore he'd been afterward. That, at least, was one thing Tony's age and experience would be good for. He could be slow. He could be patient. He knew what he was doing. 

Peter was making it difficult to remember that, though. “Please,” he gasped again. “Mr. Stark, I'm ready, please just _fuck me_.” 

It sounded so obscene coming from Peter, who an hour ago was complaining about a history test he'd had earlier today, and it was impossible to resist. He began to move: slow, shallow thrusts, giving Peter plenty of time to adjust to the new sensation. He bent down to kiss Peter (that, at least, was familiar to Peter; Tony had let Peter talk him into that months ago, months before he should have; _“It's okay, Mr. Stark, kissing's not illegal, is it? And I really want you to kiss me,_ ” and Tony had given in), keeping that gentle as well. 

When Peter kissed him back, Tony was surprised by how demanding it was, and by how Peter wrapped his legs around Tony, his hips rising up to meet Tony's careful thrusts. 

“H-harder,” Peter breathed against Tony's mouth. “Please, harder, I need it,” he added. 

Okay, Tony thought, the kid was a lot stronger and more flexible than a regular human being. Maybe Tony could speed up the pace, at least a little.

It was hard, resisting the urge to just fuck into that glorious tight heat, but he managed, thrusting a little deeper, a little faster, without taking the chance of hurting Peter. He didn't want Peter to ever look back at this with any regret. 

“I'm not going to break,” Peter insisted. “Just do it, Mr. Stark.” 

“I could hurt you,” Tony argued. 

“I'll heal! Besides,” Peter added, looking up at him with wide eyes that should _not_ look so innocent in this situation, “I trust you.” 

Which was exactly why this was such a bad idea, and why Tony owed it to Peter to at least try limiting the scope of the disaster. “Then trust me to know how to make this good for you.” 

“Think about it, Mr. Stark, if you were going to hurt me--really hurt me, I mean--wouldn't I know about it?” 

Tony couldn't be sure if that was actually a compelling argument, or if it just sounded good because it gave him permission to do what he wanted. Peter's “spider-sense” might warn him of nearby trouble or danger, but he really wasn't sure whether that would apply to being fucked too enthusiastically, and couldn't think of a way to test it other than the obvious. 

On the other hand, he really was terrible at not giving Peter what he wanted. Especially when Peter wasn't the only one who wanted it.

“Stop me if you need to,” he said. “I mean it, kid. Promise me.” 

“I won't need to,” Peter says. “You're not going to hurt me.” At Tony's frown, he added, “But okay, I promise.” 

Tony could practically hear Peter thinking, “But I won't need to,” but since Peter hadn't actually said it, he decided that was an argument he didn't need to have. Reality was probably going to change Peter's mind for him, anyway. 

“Touch yourself for me?” Tony asked. 

Peter's hand obediently went to his cock, and Tony remained still for a moment, just watching the movement of his fingers and the look on Peter's incredibly expressive face. 

Then Tony took a deep breath, reminding himself that this was what Peter wanted him to do--and fuck, it was going to feel so good to finally just take him, after so many months of dancing around one another, of slowly building up to this point--and gave in, fucking into Peter deep and hard. 

At the first thrust, Peter's hand stilled its movements. At the second, a tiny whimper, almost a sob, escaped him, and Tony froze. Part of his brain was reminding him that Peter made those noises all the time, that Peter sounded like that when Tony was kissing him, for fuck's sake, but there was another part that saw that Peter's eyes were shut tight and that Peter's cock was softening, and went into full-on panic mode. _Shit, you've hurt him, you've fucking hurt him, what was the one thing you said you weren't going to do, asshole?_

Peter's eyes flew open again. “I'm good, Mr. Stark, please don't stop,” he said, quickly. “God, please don't, that was _it_ , please--” 

And that might have convinced Tony to continue, it really might have, but the freaked-out part of his brain-- _Jesus, he's just a kid, I thought you were going to make this good for him?_ \--was definitely winning the battle, and to his embarrassment, that meant that it was refusing to allow his dick to cooperate. 

He shook his head, letting himself slip out of Peter. _Now you decide to have a conscience?_ he thought pointedly at that part of his anatomy. _Not, oh, last week when he sucked me off and said “Thank you, Mr. Stark,” while he wiped come off his face, nope, you have to wait until now?_

“Fuck,” he said, sighing heavily. “Yeah, this isn't going to work for me.” 

Jesus, Peter looked _stricken_. “I'm sorry,” he said. “I thought, you know. You wanted, well, me. I'm sorry, I'll go home--” 

“Hey, hey, no,” Tony interrupted. “This isn't about not wanting you. This is... hell, I don't know how to explain.” He was never the best at telling people what was going on in his head, especially when even he wasn't entirely sure what his problem was. All he knew was that the thought--even if it wasn't entirely accurate--that he might be hurting Peter (physically; Tony was guiltily convinced that he was going to be inflicting psychological damage that would take decades and half-a-dozen therapists to figure out, but that didn't seem to stop him), was clearly enough to bring his libido to a screeching halt. 

“I don't want to hurt you,” he tried. “And I know, you said I wasn't, and maybe I believe you, but there's part of me that just _can't_.” 

“I do riskier stuff all the time,” Peter pointed out. “The mugger I stopped last night had a gun.” 

Tony just groaned and buried his face in his hands, because Jesus, he was actually sitting here having a conversation with his teenage lover about why his dick didn't work, why the fuck was this his life? “I didn't claim this was rational.” 

Peter sat up, scooting down on the bed until he could lean against Tony's shoulder. “But it's not because you don't want to fuck me.” 

“Absolutely not.” 

“You just have to be sure you're not hurting me.” 

“That's about the size of it.” He put his arm around Peter, pulling him in closer. 

“So if there was no possible way you could hurt me, you'd be okay with fucking me? The way I want, I mean.” He kissed Tony, another hot, hungry kiss that left Tony feeling doubly guilty--that he wanted to give Peter what he so obviously needed, and that his conscience, making up for not having put a stop to this at any point in the past two years, wouldn't let him. 

“Yeah,” he said, “but there's--” And that was all he got out, because Peter's face lit up with a breathtaking grin, and the next thing Tony knew, he was flat on his back, on the bed, with Peter's hand on his chest holding him in place. 

“Peter, what the hell?” He tried to sit up again, but Peter kept him pinned effortlessly to the bed with one hand. 

“We're going to do this my way,” Peter said cheerfully. “Tell me to stop and I'll stop, but if not--” He took his hand away from Tony's chest, only to seize his wrists and pin them above Tony's head. 

That was when it clicked for Tony. Peter was going to take what he wanted. “Fuck, that's hot,” Tony mumbled, and Peter beamed down at him. 

It was better than just hot; it might actually _work_. His cock was certainly taking an interest in things again. 

“Don't go anywhere,” Peter said, and got off the bed, rummaging in the backpack he'd left by the door. Tony turned his head to watch him, but otherwise stayed where Peter had left him. 

When Peter returned, he was wearing one of his web-shooters around his wrist. “Are your arms okay like that?” he asked. “Because you know, you might be like that for a while.” 

Tony considered for a moment and shifted into a more comfortable position. “Go ahead,” he said, trying not to sound too blasé. Peter was grinning like he'd just invented bondage, and Tony didn't want to spoil that for him. After all, if it worked, it solved a problem, and it wasn't like it wasn't _fine_. Enjoyable, even. It just wasn't really Tony's thing. 

Then Peter webbed his wrists to the bed--the strands reaching up to attach him not just to the sheet beneath him, but also the headboard--and he heard himself actually moan as a jolt of arousal shot through him. 

Okay, make that, it hadn't ever really been his thing before now. But Peter... it was a game, and if Tony objected, he had no doubt that Peter would get him free as quickly as possible. But the thought had flashed through his mind that if Peter didn't want to do that, Peter was strong enough to shove him down and _keep_ him down, and fuck, it was probably a good thing that he hadn't realized how hot that was before now. 

Peter studied his handiwork for a moment, then said, “I should probably hold your legs down, too, huh? That way you really won't be able to do anything, so you'll _know_ you're not hurting me.” 

“Seems logical,” he said, trying to sound completely casual. 

It didn't work. Peter looked down at him and grinned. “Yeah, I can tell you approve. Help me out here, though--get your legs the way you want them, please?” 

Tony stretched his legs out a little more and nodded. “Good to go.” 

“Thanks, Mr. Stark,” Peter said, and for all that Peter calling him that had always worked out amazingly well for them in the past, having him do it while he was essentially _tying Tony up_ was so much better. 

When his ankles were attached, rather awkwardly, to the bed--without a footboard, Peter had to connect them to the bedframe itself--Peter stood back. “You're stuck, right? Nothing you can do about it.” 

Just in case it was going to matter to his subconscious, Tony tested his bonds. “Yeah, I'm not going anywhere.”

“And if somehow you manage to get loose,” Peter reminded him, “I can just push you back down on the bed. There's nothing you can do to stop me.” 

Okay, he was fucking grateful Peter was, well, Peter, because from almost anyone else, that would have been terrifying. “Sounds about right,” he agreed. 

“So you're not doing anything to me. I'm doing things to you, instead.” 

Tony grinned. “You're not, actually, but maybe you could start soon?” 

Peter laughed. “Yeah. Where did the lube go?” 

“Check the floor.” 

Peter found the bottle and poured a generous dollop onto his hand. “See, Mr. Stark? I'm even being very careful.” He wrapped a cold, slick hand around Tony's cock. “I thought I might have to, um, encourage you a little, after what happened earlier, but I'm glad I don't. I've been waiting too long already.” 

Once Tony's cock was covered in lube--way more lube than was necessary, but it wasn't like “too much lube” was going to be a problem--Peter got back on the bed, straddling Tony's hips. 

Tony started to give Peter a suggestion, but Peter shook his head as soon as he opened his mouth. “If you need to tell me something about how to make this good for you, I want to hear it. If you want to talk dirty like you did the other night when you were in my mouth, that's--uh, that'd actually be kind of awesome,” he went on, ducking his head a little. “But if you're going to tell me things because you think it'll be better for me if I do things your way--that's how we wound up here in the first place.” 

“Fine,” Tony said. “You win. I'm just going to lie back here and be used.” 

Peter laughed. “This is going to be awesome,” he declared. Then, without any further preliminaries, he held Tony's cock steady with one hand, guiding it into position as he lowered himself onto it. 

Tony had expected hesitation, a little resistance. Peter's eyes closed for a moment as the head of Tony's cock slid past the tight ring of muscle, and his mouth opened into an O--of pain, of surprise, of pleasure, Tony had no idea--but he continued slowly sinking down onto Tony's cock without a pause, only stopping when there was no more for him to take in. 

“Oh, God,” was all Peter said. 

Tony had to agree. But Peter had asked him to talk, and he could do that. “This is good,” he said. “Being in you? Feeling you around me? So damn good.” 

Peter whimpered, but this time it didn't worry Tony. Even the part of his mind that refused to believe it was a good sound (and from the look on Peter's face, it was definitely a good sound), couldn't blame himself for it, because there was nothing he could do about it. 

Peter raised himself up again, letting Tony's cock slip almost all the way out of him before sliding back down again, still going slowly, but steadily. “See, Mr. Stark?” he said, smiling down at Tony. “I can take it, I told you.” 

He started to move faster now, working himself on Tony's cock enthusiastically. Tony was just about to give in to the urge to move his hips, meeting Peter's thrusts as best he could in the restraints--and then Peter stopped, suddenly, halfway down Tony's cock. 

He tried--and failed--to hide a wince, but quickly said, “It's okay, I'm okay, I promise, everything's fine, it just... it was a lot. And, um. Yeah, a lot. But I'm good, I swear!” 

_Not my fault_ , Tony told himself. _I couldn't do anything about it. He's got me tied to the bed_. Yeah, okay, that was actually working. It didn't make him any less concerned about Peter, but it shut his guilt reflex up. “You sure you're okay?” 

“Yes!” Peter insisted. “I'm--okay, that was a little bit... _ow_?” He hesitated for a moment, then sighed. “And maybe you were kind of, a little bit, sort of right? About going slow.”

Tony's grin was only a little forced. “Now those are the three little words I never get tired of hearing: 'you were right.'” 

Peter laughed, and the sound was infinitely reassuring. “Oh, you like that? 'You were right, Mr. Stark. I should have listened to you.'” He took a deep breath and started to move again, very slowly this time. “I thought most guys wanted to hear how big their cocks are, but if that works for you--” 

“I'm not most guys,” Tony said. “I think we ought to be clear on that already.” 

That got another laugh out of Peter. “Yeah, okay, true,” he said; then, almost shyly, added, “I kind of like that about you.” 

“Good to know, kid.” 

Peter was moving at a glacially slow pace now, only taking the first couple of inches of Tony's cock into him before pulling back again. “I can feel myself stretching open for you,” he said, almost in a whisper. “It... it doesn't hurt, really, but I feel so full...” 

Tony groaned, his fingers curling uselessly into fists from the urge to touch, to move, to do something. But no, he reminded himself, this was about Peter, and this was a way to keep Peter safe. 

And besides, he was tied down and couldn't move if he wanted to, even though Peter was still talking, and it was driving him crazy. “I didn't know it'd feel like this,” he said. “I never--I didn't even try with my fingers, so I had no idea. “ Up and down again and again, never deep enough, never fast enough, so that Tony's balls were aching and his cock was throbbing and, he was sure, leaking pre-come inside Peter, making Peter even slicker, even easier to just fuck into, if only he just _could_.

“You,” Tony said, “are the worst tease in the entire state of New York, and I--” _love you for it_ , he'd almost said, but wow, way to give the kid the wrong fucking idea; he managed, at the last minute, to change it to “--hope you never stop.” 

“I'll have to stop eventually,” Peter said, still grinning down at him, warm and bright and happy, all the things that made Tony simultaneously want Peter, and want to protect Peter from him. “I have school on Monday.” He held still for a moment, his muscles clenched tight around Tony, then relaxed and slid down just a little further. “How's that?” he asked. “For me, it's starting to feel really good.”

“I'm great,” Tony said, “just--take your time. It probably won't kill me or anything.” 

“You're the one who told me we should take it slowly.” 

“And I stand by that, but that doesn't mean I'm not feeling the strain a little, here.” 

“ _Really_ good,” Peter repeated--because clearly Peter Parker, under all that earnest goodness, was an evil torturing demon straight from hell--and finally seated himself fully on Tony's cock again, ass pressed flush against Tony's balls. 

“You could say that,” Tony gasped, grateful for the webbing at wrists and ankles so that he could use all his willpower to focus on keeping his hips still. 

Peter clenched tight around him again, moaning. 

“Touch yourself,” Tony suggested. “For me, since I can't exactly do it myself.” 

“And besides, you like watching me?” Peter suggested, which Tony had to admit was the truth. Not that he wouldn't have happily been trying to get Peter off if he'd had a free hand, but he didn't, and fuck, it was hot watching Peter make himself come. 

“And besides,” Tony mimicked, “you're so hard, Peter. I know you want _someone_ 's hand on that pretty cock, and it can't be mine since you've got me tied down.”

Oh, _fuck_ , Peter leaned in to press a hand against Tony's mouth. “Can you lick it, please, Mr. Stark? It'll feel better if my hand's wet.” 

Tony most emphatically did not point out that there was a bottle of lube somewhere nearby; he licked Peter's palm, then paid a little attention to the sensitive skin between Peter's fingers, just to feel Peter shiver before he pulled his hand away. 

Peter was moving faster again--more carefully than before, but still riding Tony with greater enthusiasm. Now he wrapped his hand around his cock, stroking it rapidly. His eyes closed, and Tony shook his head. 

“Look at me,” he said. “Come on, Peter, I want to see you. You're so fucking hot when you come.” 

Peter's cheeks burned red, but he opened his eyes again anyway. 

“Sorry to embarrass you,” Tony said, although that was definitely “sorry-not-sorry,” “but it's still true.” 

Peter was whimpering now with every frantic stroke of his hand, his muscles clenching and unclenching around Tony's cock; it didn't surprise Tony when Peter choked out, “Oh God--Mr. Stark--Oh, _God_ \--” and came, spattering himself with streaks of white that reached up past his collarbone. 

“Fuck,” Tony breathed, and now he did give into the temptation to roll his hips, driving himself just that little bit further upward into Peter's tight, hot, amazing ass. He was so fucking glad he knew they both were clean, because right now, at least for the next few minutes, he couldn't possibly want anything more than he wanted to come inside Peter. 

“Please, Mr. Stark,” Peter moaned, and all right, the fact that “Mr. Stark” sounded that hot coming from a seventeen-year-old who was riding his dick probably meant that Tony needed _so much therapy_ , but it still made Tony groan loudly and come, still watching Peter's face the entire time. 

Peter stayed where he was for a little while, until both of their breathing had slowed again, and Tony's cock was going soft inside him. Then he climbed off Tony, nose wrinkling at the wet sounds when he pulled off Tony's cock. 

“We'll clean you up in a minute,” Tony said, as Peter crawled up the bed to lie next to him, his head resting on Tony's shoulder. “How are you feeling?”

Peter's grin was still huge, but definitely a little dazed-looking at the moment. “Good,” he said. “Really, really good.” 

Tony turned his head so that he could kiss Peter's sweat-dampened hair. “Yeah, you probably feel like you just invented sex,” he said. “Hell, I feel a little like that, and I know damn well I didn't. At least not today. We might have to do this again sometime. I don't think I'm going to actually need you to do it again, but it could be fun.” 

“Yeah,” Peter said, nodding, “but not again tonight, right? I mean, that was--I don't think I'm going to be ready to do that again before tomorrow morning at the earliest, so shouldn't I get you out of the webbing?”

Tony shrugged, as much as he could with his arms tied down and Peter lying on one of his shoulders. “In a minute. I'm good right now.” Then, softly, in Peter's ear, he murmured, “Besides, you haven't heard how I plan on getting you cleaned up yet....”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, a few people were disappointed that I teased some things that didn't happen in the fic, and since I'd meant to write them anyway, the fic gets a second chapter! Tags have been updated.

“W-what are you doing, Mr. Stark?” Peter's voice broke a little, right at the moment when Tony's tongue lapped eagerly at the still-tight ring of muscle above it. 

Tony let his head fall back against the pillow and grinned. “What did it feel like I was doing?” He had to use his imagination to see Peter's blush, which contrary to his expectations, didn't _actually_ go all the way down. “You're a smart boy,” he went on. “I still can't move my hands, so what did you expect when I asked you to come up here so I could clean you up?” 

“I didn't--I never thought--I mean, I've watched porn, but I didn't think it was a thing real people did.” 

Tony laughed, just a little, and turned his head so that he could kiss the soft skin of Peter's inner thigh. “Yeah, it's a thing real people do. It's a thing I want to do to you, unless you don't like it.” God, he hoped Peter liked it, because Tony had Peter kneeling above him, one hand obediently spreading himself open for Tony; he wanted to taste himself inside Peter, to simultaneously lick Peter clean and fuck Peter with his tongue. 

Peter was silent for a moment. “I _think_ I do,” he said, hesitantly. 

“Do you want me to keep going?” 

Another silence, but only a second or two. “Yes,” Peter said at last. “I'll never figure out for sure if I like it or not if we stop now, right?” 

“That's the spirit of scientific inquiry,” Tony said cheerfully. “And if you decide you don't like it--” He shrugged a little, as best he could with his hands bound to the bed. “You can say so, or you can get up and move away, or both. But I think you're going to enjoy it.” He licked at Peter again, chasing every drop of come that had leaked out of Peter's hole. “And I know I am.” 

Peter squirmed, and Tony stopped what he was doing, wishing he had a hand free; touching Peter usually reassured him when he got nervous about what they were doing. But Tony really wasn't going to complain about being webbed down, not when it had already worked out so well for them, and not when he had hopes that before too much longer, Peter would be demanding this in the same way he'd demanded Tony's cock earlier. 

“No, don't stop,” Peter said. “I'm good. I'll tell you if I'm not.” 

He trusted Peter on that, after Peter had even been willing to acknowledge that Tony had been right about not going too fast, before. Tony started again, making certain that he'd cleaned Peter thoroughly. 

“Next time,” Tony said, tracing around Peter's hole with the tip of his tongue, “I'm going to do this first, lick you open to get you ready for my cock.” 

“Oh, God,” Peter said. “You will? Promise?” 

He laughed. “Yeah, kid, I promise. Nice and slow, like this.” He kept licking lazy circles around Peter's hole, feeling the muscle start to go slack under his tongue, until it was easy to push inside. 

“Mis-” Peter's voice hitched, but he managed to get out, “Mr. Stark!” He didn't object, though, or move away, and as Tony continued working his tongue deeper into Peter, the next gasp sounded less surprised and more aroused. 

He pulled back a little after a while, needing to get his breath, and he took the opportunity to say, “So, have you decided whether or not you like this yet?” 

Peter's first answer was a tiny whimper, then, “Oh, yeah. I'm going to have to say those three words you liked so much earlier, aren't I? Okay, fine, 'you were right.'” Tony laughed, and Peter went on, “But seriously, you like doing it? You're not just--this isn't just for me?” 

“This is absolutely not just for you,” Tony said. “I'd stop if you didn't like it, but this is for _me_ , Peter. Tasting myself inside you? You already know I like that.” That had surprised Peter too, how avidly Tony had kissed him after he'd come in Peter's mouth the first time, but he'd warmed up to the idea quickly. 

“In my mouth,” Peter said, “but--” 

“Anywhere,” Tony corrected him. “And I've made my opinion of your ass clear over the past few weeks, I think. I've been waiting for the right time to do this.” And just in case Peter had forgotten what “this” was, he went back to work, pushing his tongue back into Peter, licking out the come he'd left inside. 

Peter whined, pushing down against Tony's tongue, forcing him deeper inside. One of these days, Tony was going to find something Peter wasn't eager to let Tony do to him, but that was clearly not going to be today. Tony kept going, making mental notes of every spot where the press of his tongue drew a whimper or a groan out of Peter, and revisiting them frequently. 

Peter's balance shifted a little, and Tony looked upward to see Peter's hand on his cock. He met Tony's eyes and grinned, a little sheepishly. “It's your fault,” he said. “It's so good, and I--” 

“I'm not complaining,” Tony assured him. “Keep going. You know I love watching you.” 

Peter flushed and looked away for a minute, but his hand didn't slow. Tony returned his attention to Peter's ass. By this point, he'd gotten Peter thoroughly clean, but that didn't mean he was ready to stop, not when Peter was groaning and writhing the way he was. 

Peter was so good, hot and tight around his tongue, making Tony think about how it had felt to have his cock inside him. And he couldn't stop moving, squirming and clenching tight when Tony found just the right spot to flick his tongue over, which just encouraged Tony to try harder. 

Then Peter cried out, his hips bucking as he fucked his own fist more desperately, then came onto his hand. Tony rode it out with him, continuing to lick while Peter shuddered around his tongue. 

“Too much,” Peter murmured at last, and Tony let his head fall back again, unable to stop smiling at the sight of Peter's blissful grin. 

Peter scooted back a little, kneeling astride Tony's chest and still grinning down at him. “I have another idea, Mr. Stark,” he said. 

Every now and then, Tony thought he ought to make more of an effort to get Peter to call him “Tony,” at least when it was just them. And then Peter beamed down at him and said something like that, and Tony knew he was never going to make that effort. If Peter decided he wanted to, that was fine, but Tony couldn't see it ever being his suggestion. 

And then Peter ran his finger over Tony's lips, until Tony opened his mouth and sucked the finger inside. 

“You want me to be all clean, don't you?” Peter said, and _fuck_ , how the hell was sex with a seventeen-year-old kid the hottest thing Tony could remember in a very long time?

“Yeah, I do,” he agreed, licking at the next finger before Peter could even present it to him. “And aren't you a clever boy for thinking of that?” Peter closed his eyes and drew in a sharp breath, and Tony couldn't help feeling slightly smug. 

Tony slowly, deliberately licked Peter's hand clean, paying extra attention to any spot where Peter seemed to be particularly sensitive. “There,” he said. “That's better, isn't it?”

Peter nodded, biting his lower lip. “Yeah. It's a lot better.” Then, very softly, he said, “But can I get you loose now? Because I think I need you to have your arms free.” 

“Sure, that's a good idea,” Tony said, frowning a little at the uncertainty on Peter's face. “Are you okay?” 

“Oh, yeah, I'm fine, Mr. Stark,” Peter said, getting up and going back to his backpack. “Just... I don't know.” 

“Overwhelmed?” Tony guessed. It had been an evening filled with new and sometimes surprising experiences, after all, and he really did need to remember that for all Peter's boundless enthusiasm for trying new things, he'd been almost completely inexperienced before Tony. He wasn't much more than that now. 

Another nod, more definite this time, as Peter came back to the bed and started cutting Tony's hands free. “I'm not gonna go too close to your hands because I don't want to cut you,” he said, “but it won't be that long before it dissolves anyway.” 

That was fine; Tony didn't really mind that he'd have a reminder of this around his wrists for a little while longer, anyway. Once he was free, Peter made to move down to free his legs. Tony stretched, rolling his shoulders to work out the kinks, and then said, “Hang on a second. Come here.” 

Peter dropped whatever it was he was holding--the glimpse Tony had gotten suggested “pocketknife”-- onto the bed and came back up toward Tony's head. 

“C'mere, kid,” Tony repeated, reaching out for Peter. He wasn't quite prepared for Peter to grab onto him and cling so tightly, burying his face in Tony's neck, but at least with his hands free, Tony could hold onto him. “It's okay. You're fine.”

“I _am_ fine,” Peter said against Tony's neck. “I'm sorry, I shouldn't be--”

“No, we're good,” Tony insisted. “It was just a really big night for you, I get it.” 

His face still hidden, Peter nodded. Tony rested his cheek against Peter's hair, trying to ignore the ridiculous warm fondness that seemed to be filling him. 

After a minute or so, Peter let go. “I should get you free,” he said, picking up the--yes, definitely a pocketknife--and starting to cut Tony loose. Hm. If Peter was going to use the webshooter on its own, maybe Tony should introduce some kind of laser cutting capability directly into it--well, mounted on the same wristband, anyway. Or just save that for the next suit, the nanotech one that was still on the drawing board, because then Peter would just be able to to form the particular components he needed... 

“There you go,” Peter said, interrupting his thoughts. 

Now that Tony could move his legs again, he got up, relishing the chance for a full-body stretch, then started for the bathroom. “I'll be back in a minute. Two, tops,” he promised Peter, who was putting his webshooter and the pocketknife back in his backpack. 

It might have taken as much as three minutes, but not much more, for Tony to have cleaned himself up and quickly brushed his teeth. 

“I should do that,” Peter said when Tony emerged. “But I don't want to get up.” 

Tony grinned and held up a warm washcloth. “You don't have to,” he said, tossing it to Peter before getting back on the bed. “I just needed a toothbrush.” 

“Thanks,” Peter said, making use of the washcloth and then stretching out beside Tony again. 

“You can come back here,” Tony said. “I don't mind.” 

That was obviously all the encouragement Peter needed to slide up close to Tony and hold on tight. “This was a good night, Mr. Stark,” he said, grinning even as Tony kissed him. 

“I won't argue with that.” 

“So,” Peter said as he curled up against Tony's side, “what are we going to try next time?” 

The only thing Tony could do was laugh and kiss him again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There *may* be a third (and final) chapter to this, but I'm not guaranteeing it, so I'm leaving this fic as completed. It can stand alone as it is anyway.


End file.
